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Anya doesn’t blink. “You’re going to fake date Chris Matthews.”The words hang in the air, freezing the space between us. “Excuse me?”I turn to Meera with a gaping mouth to make sure I heard right, and I find her with her head lowered in guilt. “You knew about this? Why didn’t you warn me before?”Meera swallows. “At least hear her out—”“No!” I cut her off, snapping my head back at Anya. “What is this, some sick joke? Fake date Chris? In what world did you think I’d agree to this?”Anya’s face is unchanged, a mask of stone as she simply mutters, “Take a moment and think about it. You’re smart enough to figure that out. Or at least, I hope you are. Ric hasn’t turned your brain all to mush yet, has he?”I glare at her, but push down the anger that threatens to bubble up. Anya is calculative, she has always been the smartest in the room with the most cunning ideas. It’s why she is so good at her job. She knows how to get her hands on things and twist them so they work in favor of whoeve
“Anya, there’s something I need to tell you,” I almost blurt out as we get out of the car.But before the words escape, I stop.Meera doesn’t know. Mike has been drugging me so I wouldn’t conceive.My throat tightens. Anya’s face shifts slightly, her brow rising as if she sensed that I was going to say something. “What?” she prompts gently, her voice careful, like she’s afraid she might spook me.Shaking my head, I plaster on a wide mocking smile. “Let’s do this then.”Anya hesitates, her lips twitching as though she wants to probe further, but instead, she gives a curt nod. Her posture sharp and composed, she looks every bit the woman who thinks she’s already won this round. Meera trails behind her, quiet and watchful, while I take a steadying breath and follow.Each step feels heavier than it should, like walking deeper into quicksand.Chris’s house is as I remember—modern yet warm, its sleek glass windows glowing softly against the fading evening light. There’s a kind of effortles
Ric’s brows knit together in a slight frown, and his arm tightens around me, as though bracing himself for whatever I’m about to say.“It’s about Chris,” I continue, my throat dry. The words feel like shards of glass scraping their way out. “Anya set up this entire PR thing… to improve my image. And part of it involves—” I hesitate, swallowing hard. “Fake dating him. For the cameras, for the media. To sell the story of our movie.”The silence that follows is deafening.Ric’s eyes darken, his jaw tightening. He doesn’t speak immediately, and that’s somehow worse than if he had exploded. “For the cameras,” he repeats, his voice controlled, but with an unmistakable edge.“Yes,” I say quickly, trying to get ahead of the brewing storm. “It’s not real, Ric. It’s all calculated. Just appearances for the sake of publicity.”His gaze locks onto mine, unrelenting. “And you agreed to this?”I hesitate, and that pause makes him sigh. “I don’t want you to see this—” I begin, panic filling my voi
Anya freezes, her eyes wide and locked on Ric’s hand, which rests around my waist. Her expression shifts from shock to anger in an instant, her lips parting slightly as if to speak, but no words come. Then, in a strained voice, she says, “I can’t do this,” and spins on her heels to leave.“Anya, wait!” I call out, my voice breaking. I step forward, reaching for her arm. “Please don’t go.”She stops but doesn’t turn around. Her shoulders heave as though she’s holding back tears. When she finally turns, her face is twisted with barely restrained anger. “Tell me what’s going on,” she demands, her voice trembling.I gesture toward the door. “Come inside. I’ll explain everything.”Meera glances at Ric, her expression laden with fear, before brushing past me into the penthouse. Anya follows, her steps hesitant but sharp. “If this has anything to do with him,” she says, nodding toward Ric, “I don’t want to hear it.”“It doesn’t,” I assure her quickly, realising that having Ric here is not at
I sit on the edge of the bed, my heart pounding as I wait for Ric's response. For a moment, I believe he won't answer, that the silence will stretch on forever. I sigh and get off the bed, feeling a mix of disappointment and resignation. But just as I stand up, Ric's voice breaks through the silence, his tone heavy with confession.“I was a hitman, Natalie.”The words hit me like a blow. My breath catches in my throat, and I freeze, my mind racing to process what he’s just said. Slowly, I turn to face him, my voice barely steady. “A hitman?” I repeat, the word foreign on my tongue.His jaw tightens, and he nods, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. "Yes," he says quietly. “My family... they are associated with the Italian mafia. My father, especially. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps, but I couldn’t stomach it. I wanted to run—to escape that life. And I did... for a while.”I search his face, trying to grasp the gravity of what he’s saying. There’s no trace of bravado o
My ears are ringing, and my heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of my chest. It can’t be true. Maisie, the woman I trusted, the woman who reminded me of my mother with her gentle smiles and quiet appearance, helped him? Betrayal slices through me like a knife.“I didn’t know,” she continues, her voice breaking into sobs. “I didn’t know what it was truly meant for!”I grab her arm and yank her sharply to her feet, hissing, “What do you mean?” My voice is a razor, cutting through the air, cutting through her lies.She flinches, her face twisting further in guilt and agony. “Sir told me to mix the powder with your food. I-I had no clue… I didn’t know it was going to—”“How stupid were you to listen to him blindly?” I slash at her. “How could you be so naive?”She wheezes, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “He said it was to improve your health,” she says, but I catch her on that lie. Her eyes dart away, unable to meet mine.I shake her by holding her shoulders tig
I swallow hard, my mind racing with doubts. But I have to remember that Anya has my best interests at heart. I nod, but I don't say a word in agreement.When we arrive at the premiere, the red carpet is already buzzing with activity. Cameras flash, and reporters call out questions, eager to get a glimpse of us. I exhale, slipping on my mask—the darling of Hollywood, but with a smeared reputation.“It’ll end before you know it,” Meera whispers, edging closer to my side.“Actually,” I begin with a smile I hope can convince her. “I’m excited about tonight. I will revel.”Meera pauses before her lips widen into a full-blown grin. “That’s the Natalie Jones they love!”“That’s the Natalie they love,” I correct. She raises a brow. “Oh yes, Meera. I’m dropping my last name after all.”I step out of the car, my gown instantly shimmering under the bright lights. The crowd erupts in cheers, and I wave, forcing myself to appear radiant despite the nerves churning in my stomach. I pose for photos,
The after-party is in full swing, the air buzzing with the energy of a successful premiere. I'm seated at a table with people including Meera, Chris, Hugo, and Aura. The venue echoes the clinking of glasses, laughter, and excited conversations. I watch as Anya walks towards me, excusing herself from a group of executives before leaning in, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. “The premiere went incredibly well,” she whispers, a smirk on her otherwise sharp face. “The press is already raving about the film, and your appearance with Chris was the cherry on top.”Chris lifts his glass of champagne, a genuine smile on his face. “To Hugo, Aura, and Natalie,” he says, his voice carrying over the noise. “May 'Choose Me, Choose You' be the success it deserves to be.”I smile, feeling a warmth spread through me. There’s a lot of hard work that was put into the movie so of course we all want it to be successful. I would agree that the premiere has been great, if I could erase the memory of th
The first thing that slams into me as I claw my way out of unconsciousness is the sharp, chemical stink of a hospital. My brain feels like it’s been dragged through mud, incapable of forming coherent thoughts. My memories are foggy. I have no clue how long I’ve been here or what the hell happened. My breaths come out shallow, weak, and when my hand shakily grazes my head, I hit the edge of a thick bandage. The ache beneath it isn’t sharp—it’s this deep, gnawing throb, like my body knows something my mind can’t piece together. Time stretches and collapses, seconds bleeding into hours, or maybe days—I can’t tell. Then, I hear Meera’s faint voice cutting through the haze. “Natalie,” she calls, and my eyelids drag open. Her gasp hits my ears, her face crumpling as tears spill over. “You’re okay,” she whispers, her voice trembling with relief. I try to respond, to say something, anything, but my throat feels like sandpaper. My lips crack as I part them, but no sound comes out. Behin
The after-party is in full swing, the air buzzing with the energy of a successful premiere. I'm seated at a table with people including Meera, Chris, Hugo, and Aura. The venue echoes the clinking of glasses, laughter, and excited conversations. I watch as Anya walks towards me, excusing herself from a group of executives before leaning in, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. “The premiere went incredibly well,” she whispers, a smirk on her otherwise sharp face. “The press is already raving about the film, and your appearance with Chris was the cherry on top.”Chris lifts his glass of champagne, a genuine smile on his face. “To Hugo, Aura, and Natalie,” he says, his voice carrying over the noise. “May 'Choose Me, Choose You' be the success it deserves to be.”I smile, feeling a warmth spread through me. There’s a lot of hard work that was put into the movie so of course we all want it to be successful. I would agree that the premiere has been great, if I could erase the memory of th
I swallow hard, my mind racing with doubts. But I have to remember that Anya has my best interests at heart. I nod, but I don't say a word in agreement.When we arrive at the premiere, the red carpet is already buzzing with activity. Cameras flash, and reporters call out questions, eager to get a glimpse of us. I exhale, slipping on my mask—the darling of Hollywood, but with a smeared reputation.“It’ll end before you know it,” Meera whispers, edging closer to my side.“Actually,” I begin with a smile I hope can convince her. “I’m excited about tonight. I will revel.”Meera pauses before her lips widen into a full-blown grin. “That’s the Natalie Jones they love!”“That’s the Natalie they love,” I correct. She raises a brow. “Oh yes, Meera. I’m dropping my last name after all.”I step out of the car, my gown instantly shimmering under the bright lights. The crowd erupts in cheers, and I wave, forcing myself to appear radiant despite the nerves churning in my stomach. I pose for photos,
My ears are ringing, and my heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of my chest. It can’t be true. Maisie, the woman I trusted, the woman who reminded me of my mother with her gentle smiles and quiet appearance, helped him? Betrayal slices through me like a knife.“I didn’t know,” she continues, her voice breaking into sobs. “I didn’t know what it was truly meant for!”I grab her arm and yank her sharply to her feet, hissing, “What do you mean?” My voice is a razor, cutting through the air, cutting through her lies.She flinches, her face twisting further in guilt and agony. “Sir told me to mix the powder with your food. I-I had no clue… I didn’t know it was going to—”“How stupid were you to listen to him blindly?” I slash at her. “How could you be so naive?”She wheezes, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “He said it was to improve your health,” she says, but I catch her on that lie. Her eyes dart away, unable to meet mine.I shake her by holding her shoulders tig
I sit on the edge of the bed, my heart pounding as I wait for Ric's response. For a moment, I believe he won't answer, that the silence will stretch on forever. I sigh and get off the bed, feeling a mix of disappointment and resignation. But just as I stand up, Ric's voice breaks through the silence, his tone heavy with confession.“I was a hitman, Natalie.”The words hit me like a blow. My breath catches in my throat, and I freeze, my mind racing to process what he’s just said. Slowly, I turn to face him, my voice barely steady. “A hitman?” I repeat, the word foreign on my tongue.His jaw tightens, and he nods, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. "Yes," he says quietly. “My family... they are associated with the Italian mafia. My father, especially. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps, but I couldn’t stomach it. I wanted to run—to escape that life. And I did... for a while.”I search his face, trying to grasp the gravity of what he’s saying. There’s no trace of bravado o
Anya freezes, her eyes wide and locked on Ric’s hand, which rests around my waist. Her expression shifts from shock to anger in an instant, her lips parting slightly as if to speak, but no words come. Then, in a strained voice, she says, “I can’t do this,” and spins on her heels to leave.“Anya, wait!” I call out, my voice breaking. I step forward, reaching for her arm. “Please don’t go.”She stops but doesn’t turn around. Her shoulders heave as though she’s holding back tears. When she finally turns, her face is twisted with barely restrained anger. “Tell me what’s going on,” she demands, her voice trembling.I gesture toward the door. “Come inside. I’ll explain everything.”Meera glances at Ric, her expression laden with fear, before brushing past me into the penthouse. Anya follows, her steps hesitant but sharp. “If this has anything to do with him,” she says, nodding toward Ric, “I don’t want to hear it.”“It doesn’t,” I assure her quickly, realising that having Ric here is not at
Ric’s brows knit together in a slight frown, and his arm tightens around me, as though bracing himself for whatever I’m about to say.“It’s about Chris,” I continue, my throat dry. The words feel like shards of glass scraping their way out. “Anya set up this entire PR thing… to improve my image. And part of it involves—” I hesitate, swallowing hard. “Fake dating him. For the cameras, for the media. To sell the story of our movie.”The silence that follows is deafening.Ric’s eyes darken, his jaw tightening. He doesn’t speak immediately, and that’s somehow worse than if he had exploded. “For the cameras,” he repeats, his voice controlled, but with an unmistakable edge.“Yes,” I say quickly, trying to get ahead of the brewing storm. “It’s not real, Ric. It’s all calculated. Just appearances for the sake of publicity.”His gaze locks onto mine, unrelenting. “And you agreed to this?”I hesitate, and that pause makes him sigh. “I don’t want you to see this—” I begin, panic filling my voi
“Anya, there’s something I need to tell you,” I almost blurt out as we get out of the car.But before the words escape, I stop.Meera doesn’t know. Mike has been drugging me so I wouldn’t conceive.My throat tightens. Anya’s face shifts slightly, her brow rising as if she sensed that I was going to say something. “What?” she prompts gently, her voice careful, like she’s afraid she might spook me.Shaking my head, I plaster on a wide mocking smile. “Let’s do this then.”Anya hesitates, her lips twitching as though she wants to probe further, but instead, she gives a curt nod. Her posture sharp and composed, she looks every bit the woman who thinks she’s already won this round. Meera trails behind her, quiet and watchful, while I take a steadying breath and follow.Each step feels heavier than it should, like walking deeper into quicksand.Chris’s house is as I remember—modern yet warm, its sleek glass windows glowing softly against the fading evening light. There’s a kind of effortles
Anya doesn’t blink. “You’re going to fake date Chris Matthews.”The words hang in the air, freezing the space between us. “Excuse me?”I turn to Meera with a gaping mouth to make sure I heard right, and I find her with her head lowered in guilt. “You knew about this? Why didn’t you warn me before?”Meera swallows. “At least hear her out—”“No!” I cut her off, snapping my head back at Anya. “What is this, some sick joke? Fake date Chris? In what world did you think I’d agree to this?”Anya’s face is unchanged, a mask of stone as she simply mutters, “Take a moment and think about it. You’re smart enough to figure that out. Or at least, I hope you are. Ric hasn’t turned your brain all to mush yet, has he?”I glare at her, but push down the anger that threatens to bubble up. Anya is calculative, she has always been the smartest in the room with the most cunning ideas. It’s why she is so good at her job. She knows how to get her hands on things and twist them so they work in favor of whoeve